Chapter 38: “Snowy Wilderness” Part 2

When she looked back into the lens at the woman—

Her hands were tucked in her pockets, her head slightly bowed as if adjusting her pose.

Fu Tingli zoomed in closer.

Kong Liyuan’s eyelashes trembled faintly. Fu Tingli had never seen her face a camera like this before.

She was someone who lived inside lenses.

Yet here she seemed so stiff and awkward before this tiny screen, evoking a sense of isolation amid the immense world.

Fu Tingli suddenly wanted to go to her. And she started to.

But with her first step forward, the viewfinder jolted, and in that instant, she caught sight of a flock of birds streaking past the edge of the cloud layers.

“Kong Liyuan!”

She called her name.

On the screen, Kong Liyuan looked up. The wind had blown her hood back, tousling her hair wildly. A hazy veil of pale blue wind separated them, blurring the expression on her face.

“Look! Little birds over there!”

Spotting such vivid life amid the icy desolation thrilled Fu Tingli. It reminded her of that morning in California when she’d glimpsed a flock gilded by the dawn light.

She swung the lens toward the birds in the sky. The screen dimmed abruptly. A glance at the corner showed the battery at one percent.

She hurriedly lowered the phone again, zooming out to recapture the scene.

The light in the viewfinder brightened once more.

Across the vast snowfield, the golden sunlight bloomed into an enormous halo, enveloping the woman within it.

She tilted her chin up slightly, eyes on the birds vanishing into the distance. Her figure blurred at the edges, but the lower half of her face stood out sharp and vivid.

Fu Tingli pressed the shutter.

—The image of the woman and the birds was captured then and there, frozen on her phone. The battery gave out completely, and the device shut itself off after that single shot.

She pocketed it with a pang of regret.

Sunlight splashed across her, footsteps crunching closer once more. In moments, Kong Liyuan’s presence brushed near.

“Did you get it?”

“Just the one. Sigh, I should have taken a few more.”

“But it caught the little birds too. No regrets.”

Fu Tingli heard Kong Liyuan say.

She looked up. Inches away, in the hazy glow, Kong Liyuan smiled at her with perfect clarity.

In that second, she made a foolish wish amid the Northern Border snow—that the auto-save would somehow work its magic just this once.

With one photo of uncertain fate preserved, the phone went fully dead, reduced in the freezing cold to a frigid brick weighing down her pocket.

Yet they didn’t turn back along the road right away. Instead, they meandered slowly through the boundless snowy expanse, speaking no more of anything beyond it, content in silent agreement to let the snow enfold them.

The sky was a pale slate-blue, tinting the pristine snow with a hint of the same hue.

The fierce wind pierced their bodies, scouring their resilient yet yielding bones until they felt utterly purified.

All the petty scraps of daily life were whipped away like fading ash. Here in this open snowy plain, beneath the fresh new sun overhead—

Nothing mattered anymore.

Fu Tingli wondered if Kong Liyuan felt the same, or if she was pondering Ayang’s emotions upon returning to her homeland along this directionless path.

They simply walked side by side in quiet companionship, now and then asking if the other felt cold, checking that their felt hats sat secure, scanning the horizon for more passing birds.

Only when they could go no farther did they turn back, retracing their steps along the trail of footprints they’d left.

Fu Tingli gazed at the paired rows of prints and felt an inexplicable hollowness bloom inside her, like a vast empty space had opened up.

A little voice clamored within, pounding at her heart, desperate to fill itself with all the wind and snow here—but it could never hold enough.

This place felt like a world apart, a hidden paradise.

And the two of them truly seemed like fellow travelers, weary from the road—not stranded by the road closure, but drawn here by hearts grown barren and depleted.

Here, they could scoop up endless vitality, gathering strength to press onward once more.

She followed in Kong Liyuan’s footsteps through the deep snow. From that moment, she resolved to return here one more time before leaving the Northern Border.

~~~

By the time they returned to their lodging, night was nearly upon them. They had slept late and skipped lunch, sustaining themselves only on the few pieces of naan Kong Liyuan had tucked in her pocket.

Yes, Fu Tingli had no idea where or when this woman had gotten it.

The guide was crouched outside their wooden cabin, clad in an embroidered fur robe, puffing away on a cigarette with a sharp, acrid tang.

Spotting their slow approach, the guide hauled himself up from the ground with a limp and hurried forward eagerly.

“Where’d you two go? My phone died—I couldn’t reach you at all!”

The guide’s smoke stung far worse than Kong Liyuan’s. Fu Tingli edged away discreetly, then smiled and explained.

“We just took a walk outside. I sent you a WeChat—maybe you didn’t see it.”

She gestured between herself and Kong Liyuan. “No need to worry. We’re both grown adults; it’s not like we could get lost.”

Hearing that, the guide had nothing more to say. He stubbed out the cigarette, glanced at Kong Liyuan, then let out a sigh and muttered.

“She’s the Superstar, after all. And she had that fever before. I was afraid something might happen and her crew would come after me.”

“It won’t.” They had reached the door by now, and Kong Liyuan casually pulled back her hood. “If they give you any trouble, just tell me.”

The guide choked on the words, taking a hard drag before smacking his lips in frustration.

“By the time something happened to you, who could I even tell?”

Kong Liyuan heard this and actually smiled. Then she said, “Fair enough. Should I sign a liability waiver for you, then? Stating that I’m fully responsible for everything during my stay in Hewatu Village? If anything goes wrong, the guide bears no fault?”

She seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood, even cracking such a joke with the guide. Fu Tingli curved her eyes in a smile, playing along.

Then she caught sight of the guide opening his eyes. His gaze flickered over the two of them before he muttered, “You two girls, where have you been off playing to get so happy?”

Just then, Apa stepped out from inside the house. She was dressed in an embroidered fur robe a touch more elegant than that morning’s attire, topped with a windproof fur hat that kept her warm. Her smile and the wrinkles on her face bunched together.

Spotting them all standing at the doorway, her eyes lit up. She chattered away in a rapid string of words.

Fu Tingli barely caught the meaning. Surprise flickered across her face at first, then her eyes crinkled into happy slits, her smile growing even broader.

Kong Liyuan noticed the sudden shift in her mood and turned to look at her. She smiled too, then shot her an inquiring glance with her eyes—what did it mean?

The guide spoke up right on cue. “Apa says a local family has invited her to dinner. She wants to know if you two want to come along.”

~~~

The dinner host was Apa’s good friend. Hearing that two Han girls had shown up at Apa’s place in their hour of desperate need, the friend had warmly insisted Apa bring them too.

Fu Tingli suddenly understood the old saying: when you reach the end of the road, a path will appear.

But since they were guests, they couldn’t arrive empty-handed.

She rummaged through her suitcase for a clean set of clothes to change into, while Kong Liyuan slipped into an embroidered fur robe Apa had dug out from inside the house.

The robe had a black base, with intricate, vibrant golden embroidery along the hem and cuffs. It was warm and thick without being bulky, accentuating her slender waist. Apa had hand-stitched it for her eldest daughter before her wedding. But that daughter had married a Han man in recent years and moved away, not even taking the robe with her.

Now it draped over Kong Liyuan, pairing surprisingly well even with her high boots.

Even without the full ensemble, it sharpened the edges of her facial contours and amplified her allure, adding a touch of wildness to her innate air of refined elegance.

Fu Tingli glanced at Kong Liyuan’s face, thought for a moment, then took off her own felt hat and placed it on her head. That sharpness softened a bit.

“Looks good?” Kong Liyuan asked.

“Looks good. The robe suits you perfectly,” Fu Tingli nodded.

“Is it the robe that looks good, or the person?”

Such a classic line. Fu Tingli chuckled, then patiently replied, “The person looks best.”

With that, she turned away to rummage for something else. She heard Kong Liyuan let out a delighted laugh behind her. Then she fished out the face masks she’d bought at the supermarket the day before and turned to stuff one into Kong Liyuan’s hand.

“If the house is crowded later, find a quiet corner to sit in and put this on.”

She had no idea how many people would be there, or if any other stranded tourists might show up. If Kong Liyuan got recognized, it’d be another headache.

“What about you?”

“Me? I’ll be right up front, eating my heart out, of course.”

Fu Tingli shot back with a playful grin.

Then she dug through her suitcase again, trying to find something halfway decent to pass off as a gift amid the jumble.

“How about this?”

Kong Liyuan’s voice drifted down lazily from above. Fu Tingli looked up to see her pointing at the white model sculpture.

It was already uncovered, its shape blatantly obvious.

Fu Tingli’s heart skipped a beat. She hurriedly tucked the sculpture away and covered it up, then said casually, “No way, not that one.”

Kong Liyuan fell silent, seemingly staring at her. Only after a long moment did she look away.

Then she pointed again. “What about this?”

This time, it was the stack of heating patches she’d packed neatly in her suitcase. It hadn’t been that cold the night before, so she hadn’t used them.

They were still pristine. But heating patches as a housewarming gift?

As if reading her mind, Kong Liyuan chuckled and said, “Do you think there’s anything else in here that’s presentable?”

Fair point.

Fu Tingli resigned herself to it and pulled out the heating patches. Luckily, Li Weili had packed them neatly before the trip, so they didn’t look too shabby.

They actually appeared decent enough.

She grabbed them and started to leave, but after a few steps, she noticed Kong Liyuan still lingering by the suitcase, lost in thought.

“What’s up?” she asked, puzzled.

Kong Liyuan snapped out of it and met her gaze with a faint smile. Distractedly, she said, “I don’t think I have anything to bring as a gift.”

“Oh,” Fu Tingli replied with a laugh tinged with schadenfreude. Teasingly, she added, “How come you didn’t think to hold something back when you were bartering earlier?”

Kong Liyuan fixed her with a stare and let out a soft sigh, saying nothing.

But Fu Tingli could tell those eyes—made all the more sultry and enchanting by the fur robe—held a glimmer of amusement, utterly devoid of regret.

It was as if they were whispering to their beholder a tender, fleeting affection.

As if to say that, given another chance, she’d still pawn her scarf for a bottle of hot water for her.

She could always give the felt hat as a gift— but the thought flitted through Fu Tingli’s mind and vanished. A worn hat wasn’t appropriate.

Besides, both she and Kong Liyuan had worn it.

Whatever. She looked at Kong Liyuan.

With a sigh, she shook the box of heating patches in her hand and said casually, “This one’s from both of us.”

If it was embarrassing, they’d just both lose face together.